42. To Dindymus
So soft on your cheeks is the shadowy down
That it fades with a breath in the breeze or the sun.
Such a delicate bloom as on quinces oft lingers
That shine when they're plucked by a maiden's soft fingers.
And if too repeated my kisses I press
On your lips, a new beard springs up from my caress.
That it fades with a breath in the breeze or the sun.
Such a delicate bloom as on quinces oft lingers
That shine when they're plucked by a maiden's soft fingers.
And if too repeated my kisses I press
On your lips, a new beard springs up from my caress.
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